


The Peace, The Storm

by Lil_Redhead



Series: Shirbert Oneshot + Drabble Collection [17]
Category: Anne of Green Gables - L. M. Montgomery, Anne with an E (TV)
Genre: 3x09 spoilers, F/M, First Kiss, a fic to end all misunderstandings, because i cannot countenance misunderstandings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-18
Updated: 2019-11-18
Packaged: 2021-02-08 11:14:31
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,934
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21475081
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lil_Redhead/pseuds/Lil_Redhead
Summary: In which Gilbert discovers he missed a very vital piece of information sitting on his kitchen table.
Relationships: Gilbert Blythe & Anne Shirley, Gilbert Blythe/Anne Shirley
Series: Shirbert Oneshot + Drabble Collection [17]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1075275
Comments: 37
Kudos: 498





	The Peace, The Storm

**Author's Note:**

> I wasn't originally going to write anything for this episode! I was too busy empathizing with Anne, who seemed to ache so deeply. But then an anon on tumblr sent me an ask about Gilbert's connection to the island and his subsequent connection with Anne, and this happened. Y'all know I haven't proofed it, so expect some typos! Regardless, enjoy! ♥

_ “Suddenly, he saw her there in her mother’s garden. Sun on her shoulders, wind in her hair. The smell of the flowers she held in her hand and the pollen that fell from her fingertips. And suddenly [he] was only a man with a taste of nectar upon his lips.” - Hadestown_

*

The Island had funny ways of telling Gilbert that he was in its favor. It was subtle in its tender attentions, entangling over his heart when he was sailing in far off places and giving warmth when he returned to its shores. It was faithful to him the same way a friend was, nudging him in the direction the young girl he’d been wandering aimlessly for since his train had arrived from Charlottetown. 

_ Anne_. Just the thought of her made his breath shudder in his chest. 

Soon, his mind was full of her and he wasn’t aware of where he was wandering. The only thing he knew was that walking meant that he could rest content with his memories for a few moments longer, and relive them until he eventually found the real thing. His eyes searched the scenery, discovering traces of her in the queen anne’s lace and the fluttering butterflies that danced from blossom to blossom. 

He was so drunk off of the thought of her that he barely registered when she actually appeared before him, laying in a bed of grass on the same cliffside where he’d remembered her. It was her hair he saw first, tangled up in the long grass like a spreading flame, but then he noticed her arms spread out at her sides. Her fingers weaved like wind through the grass, slow and numb. A thick rush of longing constricted Gilbert’s throat, making it impossible to call out to her. Her spirit radiated out, heavy, but sweet like pollen. 

With greater ease than he anticipated, Gilbert called out her name. 

Something Gilbert couldn’t name overcame Anne’s expression, and she shot up to her elbow. Her gaze claimed him, yearning and yielding in its intensity. She wanted to run away, that much he could see, but something kept her fixed to the ground. The lashes of her eyes were red at the brims, and streaks of tears had marbled onto her cheeks. 

“Have you been crying?” he asked dumbly. She turned her face away, sunset orange hair failing to shield the tremor in her lip. 

With delicate movements, Gilbert situated himself at her side, sitting beside where she lay. How simple it would be to lay flush beside her and bury his face into her shoulder where her red hair was bundled. His fingers twitched at the thought of how soft her skin would be, how her presence would soothe him to his soul. 

To keep himself from doing this, he found his words. 

“I was sorry to hear about Ka’kwet. Marilla told me of your plans to write to _The Globe. _ I could proofread your letter before you send it if you like.” Anne said nothing, causing Gilbert to shift uncomfortably. “I suppose you’d prefer that Miss Stacy read it.” 

Still, Anne was silent. Gilbert glanced over at her and found her fingers shaking and clutching at the grass for a lifeline. It wasn’t like her to sit so still, to isolate her pain to herself. 

“Listen, Anne, I’m sorry I was away when everything was happening,” he murmured, placing a hand on her shoulder. As if he had doused her with boiling water, she rushed to her feet and began to hasten along the cliffside path. 

“Anne?” he called out. Her pace only sped up, so he called again. “_Anne!” _

This time, her footsteps froze in the path. Against the greenery of the plains, she cut the silhouette of a woman, strong in her shoulders with her coppery hair spinning to gold in the breeze. Gilbert knew he should say something - especially if he nearly suffocated every time she existed too closely to him. 

Then she was spinning around, and stomping up to him. Her arms were crossed protectively against her chest, but her glare shot right through him. She entered his space, shattering his sense of reality, sending him tumbling backwards. More tears trickled down her cheeks but she didn’t seem to notice.

“Don’t you have anything to say to me?” she demanded.

Gilbert gaped, shaking his head in utter confusion. 

“What- I-...Anne, what are you talking about?” 

Her teeth clenched together. Gilbert could feel her boring into him - begging, and begging, and _ begging. _What for, though, he didn’t know. When he said nothing, the resolve in her disintegrated away, and Anne resigned. She stumbled backwards a step, nodding bitterly. 

“I want my pen back,” she stated coldly. Gilbert bristled. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad being at the receiving end of her ire if only he knew what he’d done to hurt her so badly. A few traitorous ideas entered the back of his mind, but he refused to entertain them. _ No, _ he thought, _ she couldn’t possibly... _

“My apologies,” Gilbert said slowly. “I didn’t realize I still had it.” 

“You _ didn’t- _” Anne choked. “I’m fairly certain I mentioned it in the note I left you. You know, the one that I laid my entire heart out on. The one you blatantly ignored without even acknowledging it!” 

“Note? Anne, I never-” 

“Or maybe you just decided to stop reading it after the part where I told you I love you! Did you crumple it up and burn right then and there or did you tear it up and throw it with the kitchen scraps so the pigs could eat it later?” 

Gilbert was stunned into silence, but only for just long enough for him to gather his wits.

“What did you just say?” 

Anne’s glare lost its bite, melting away into a raw ache that Gilbert could feel. Another tear slid down her face, disappearing into the tall grass. She filled her lungs with the summer air, but her hands still shook. Gilbert wanted to grab them, but instead he gave her space to articulate her thoughts. Finally, she spoke in a soft tone.

“I said quite a bit, but I imagine the part you’re referring to is the part where I said that I’m dreadfully in love with you.” She wiped her hand across her cheek. “I tried to tell you sooner, but you were never home. That’s why I left you a note-” 

“-Anne,” Gilbert interrupted. “I didn’t receive any note.” 

Her brows knit together.

“I left it right on the table. Underneath the water pitcher.” 

Gilbert shook his head. He didn’t care about the logistics of how the note went missing. All that mattered was that there _ was _one - a beautiful, handwritten note from Anne Shirley Cuthbert that contained the astonishing fact that she loved him. 

His breath was swept from him once again. Anne _ loved _him. She had tried to tell him, but all she’d received was silence. 

The sea would be right to swallow him up for the things he put her through. 

“When I came to you that night-” he stammered.

“-I was drunk, and confused, and terrified,” she explained, tucking her arms closer to her. “How could I tell you to choose me when I have nothing to offer you?” 

It was at that moment that Gilbert realized that a man must speak things clearly to be understood. No more dancing around the truth, no more sending unspoken messages. Just the words as they appear in the dictionary, the truth as it exists in his heart. Yet, he barely needed any words at all to be clear. 

“I love you,” he confessed on a heartsick whisper. “All the things you offer me, they’re more precious than anything I could ever have in this world.” 

Anne’s eyes widened until they blended with the periwinkle sea behind her. A watery sob escaped her lips that was nearly a burst of relieved laughter. Her cheeks lifted in a lovelorn smile that sparkled in amazement. His own chest turning blissfully lighter, he continued.

“You should know that I’m not engaged to Winifred, and I never intend to be. Truth be told, I’m not certain I’m ready for marriage yet. One day I will be.” He paused. “I hope that won’t come as a disappointment to you.” 

“_Disappointment? _” Anne cried. “You’ve just told me that you’re not engaged and that you love me and you think I’m disappointed?! Gilbert, I think there are so many places that we need to journey as individuals before we start a life together, and that doesn’t disappoint me at all. How glorious it is just to have my feelings met and matched!” 

Venturing forward, Gilbert reached for her hands, which Anne gladly offered. His thumbs grazed the softness of her skin, sending a thrill up her arms. 

“What now?” Gilbert asked. 

“I humbly suggest an arrangement,” Anne offered, beaming up at him. 

“Of what sort?” 

“Courting has too many guidelines. I propose we take things at our own pace and follow our own rules. We can call ourselves what we wish and do what suits us. We’ll be free to grow as people until the day comes when we’re ready to come together.” 

Gilbert considered this, approving most of it. 

“I don’t want to be just friends, though.” 

Anne shook her head. “Me either.” 

“Then I accept your proposal, Anne,” Gilbert said with no mock formality. “And I give you a proposal of my own.” 

Anne stepped forward, wrapping her arms around him and peering up to see what he would say. Instead, he pulled a pen from his pocket and held it out before her.

“Write to me. Rewrite me that note I never got to read, write me if we attend different schools, write me when you’re sad or elated. Write me when you need a reminder that for me, it’s only you. I want to hear what you have to say, always. No more miscommunications and misunderstandings.” 

Anne pulled one of her hands away from his waist to take the pen and hold it close to her chest. 

“I like the sound of that,” she said. 

Gilbert opened his mouth - whether to tease her, to praise her, to apologize, Anne didn’t know. Nor did she care. She rose to her toes and pressed her lips to his, lingering a few seconds longer than she originally intended. It was just long enough for Gilbert to take her face in her hands and return the kiss. When he pulled back, he rested his forehead on hers and shared her breath. 

“What did your note even say?” he wondered. Anne shrugged.

“Things you know now. If I were to write a revised one, it’d go like this…” Anne cleared her throat. “Dear Gilbert, thank you for coming back to me. I love you, Anne.” 

Gilbert brushed a piece of her hair away from her face with a smile.

“Mine would say: Dear Anne, thank you for not giving up on me. I love you too. Yours, Gilbert.” 

They settled back onto the grass, holding hands and telling their stories of when their love began. Gilbert’s began the day he met her in the forest, the day he trailed behind her and had unknowingly sewn himself into the fabric of her heart. Anne’s story jumped around in time as she struggled to put into words the feelings she’d always harbored for him. Behind them, the sky bathed them in magenta light. The island shared in the storytelling, turning their words into gold beneath its red soil. 

**Author's Note:**

> Wanna chat? I'm on tumblr ~@royalcordelia ♥


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